Hard Ride to Wichita

by Ralph Compton

  The four of them were clustered near the corner store that sold candy sticks and sarsaparilla. Across the street were a dress shop and a laundry, which gave the air the bitter scent of bleach at certain times of day. There wasn’t any steaming going on at the moment, but the odors still lingered from earlier on. A pair of horses was led down the street toward John Vassilly’s blacksmith’s shop, providing more than enough noise to mask the approach of the two young men who insinuated themselves into the conversation.

  “Before you think about more profits,” Luke said, “you should settle up the debts you already have.”

  The brothers turned around to get a look at the other two boys, and the younger pair seemed happy to have been removed from the spotlight. “Well, well, well,” Joseph said. “Seems you two finally got finished rolling around on the floor. How’d it turn out?”

  “I won,” Luke said.

  Joseph scowled and when he glanced over to Red, he got a subtle nod to confirm the story. “Guess I should’ve stayed around to see what happened,” Joseph said. “Since the two of you barely look scratched, I suppose we didn’t miss much.”

  “You can say that again,” Marty laughed.

  Red took one step forward, causing Marty to reflexively take one step back. “What would you have preferred? Me and him knock the hell out of each other?”

  “Would’ve been more fun to watch.”

  “Well, it’s not our job to entertain the two of you,” Luke said. “And it’s not our problem that you wandered off. You did mention something about a wager, though.”

  Marty’s eyes widened. “That’s right!” Turning to his brother, he said, “You owe me some money!”

  “And then you owe me some money,” Luke said. “I recall you saying you’d cut me in if I won.”

  “That’s right, little brother,” Joseph said as he smacked Marty’s shoulder. “I recall you saying that as well. Best pay up.”

  The two brothers threw a few halfhearted punches at each other while laughing and making idle treats. When they were done horsing around, Marty turned to Luke as if he was surprised he was still there. “Yeah, well, I can get that money to you later.”

  “No. I’ll take it now.”

  Marty was still smirking as he looked back and forth between Luke and Red. Slowly the grin faded and he straightened up to his full height, which was roughly comparable to Luke’s. “I don’t got it now. I’ll get it some other time.”

  “Nah,” Red said. “I think we should take it now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re a loudmouthed little weasel who can’t be trusted any farther than he could be tossed.” Red then looked over to Joseph and added, “That goes for the both of you.”

  “I thought we were all friends,” Marty said.

  “And there’s no reason why we don’t have to be friends,” Luke told him. “Just pay me what you owe.”

  “What brought this on?”

  “It’s like he said,” Luke replied while nodding toward Red. “I don’t think you’ll pay up. If you do, I’ll apologize.”

  “And what if I don’t?”

  “Then you’ll prove to be every bit the little weasel Red thought you were.”

  The two youngest boys backed away from the other four. After they’d put a certain amount of distance between themselves and the rest, they took off running so they could watch what happened from afar.

  Marty started to inch forward but was pushed back by Joseph. The older brother was a bit taller than Luke and considerably more muscular. Glaring at him from beneath smooth eyebrows, Joseph said, “You’ll take that back.”

  “I will as soon as I’m proven wrong.”

  “We don’t owe you a damn thing and you know it.”

  “I beg to differ,” Luke replied with a smirk. Joseph was drawn tighter than a bowstring, and the quick wink Luke gave him was more than enough to make him snap.

  Joseph’s hands balled into fists and he lunged at Luke. Before he could get close enough to swing, he was tackled by Red, who slammed his shoulder against the older Paulsen’s midsection.

  Still blinking in surprise at how quickly that had happened, Luke looked over to find Marty in a similar state. As his older brother struggled with Red, Marty sputtered, “You gotta have someone else fight your battles?”

  Not one for threats, Luke struggled to find something to say that would get his point across. Hearing those words, along with seeing the petulant look in Marty’s eyes, sparked something in him that he’d never really known was there.

  “You’ve always been a yellow little coward, Luke,” Marty said as his brother shoved Red aside. “Everyone knows it.”

  When he’d convinced Red to march over to the Paulsen boys, his intention had been to stand up to them and let them know they couldn’t just start trouble and walk away from it. Too many times, Luke had seen blowhards get away with whatever they pleased simply because nobody bothered calling them out for what they were. Also, as he and Red had both mentioned, the Paulsen boys weren’t exactly their favorite people in town. Hearing Marty say those things to him at that particular moment caused Luke’s eyesight to blur around the edges like a poorly taken photograph. Before he knew what was happening, he was no longer standing in the spot he’d once been.

  Marty said something, but Luke didn’t hear it. He didn’t even hear the yelp that came from Marty when Luke punched him in the mouth.

  A few steps away, Joseph threw a punch at Red. Ducking beneath the incoming fist, Red grabbed the front of Joseph’s shirt, pulled him in close, and drove his knee into the other boy’s stomach. Joseph groaned and staggered back as Red stalked forward in pursuit.

  “Wait a second!” Marty said.

  But Luke was too far along to stop now. In fact, the louder Marty pleaded, the more Luke wanted to stomp him into the dirt. When he snapped a quick jab into the side of Marty’s face, it was mostly to get the other boy to fight back.

  Nearby, Red had a hold of Joseph’s shirt and was tossing him around like a rag doll. The other boy tried to fight back, but Red pulled him down and slammed his knee into his face. Joseph straightened up as blood flew from his nose. The pain from the blow made him unsteady on his feet and a surprised expression showed beneath a spreading crimson mask. Not as surprised, however, as Red himself.

  “I’ll get the money for you!” Marty said. “I swear!”

  “Get it right now,” Luke demanded.

  “I don’t have it!” When Luke cocked his head and drew a fist back, Marty quickly added, “But we got other things. Maybe something we could trade.”

  “Anything worth as much as you owe?”

  “Sure! Sure!”

  Realizing that Marty was anxious to appease him, Luke asked, “What about more than what you owe? You got anything worth that much?”

  “Why more?”

  Luke surged toward the other boy and bared his teeth like an animal. “Because the deal wasn’t for a trade! It was for money and if you can’t scrape it up, you’ll have to make up for it and then some!”

  All Marty had to do was look over to his brother. Joseph pressed both hands against his face and moaned as blood seeped from his nose. Standing nearby with a good amount of blood on himself as well, Red calmly turned to look at how the other two were doing.

  “I—I got some things I could trade,” Marty whimpered. “Please. Just don’t kill us.”

  Luke recoiled at that and looked over to Red. His friend wasn’t about to say anything, but it was plain to see that he was fighting to keep from busting out in laughter. Motioning for his friend to keep holding his tongue, Luke said, “That depends on what kind of trade you can make.”

  • • •

  The Paulsen brothers scampered off like a couple of whipped dogs. Although the arrangement was for them to meet Red and Luke at an empty lot the old
er boys in town had claimed as their own, there were only two souls on that patch of land almost an hour after the agreed-upon time had passed.

  Red sat on an overturned bucket that had been in that spot for so long it had sunken roots into the dirt. His elbows rested upon his knees, and his hands worked to whittle down a short stick with a pocketknife. “They ain’t comin’, you know.”

  Standing at the edge of the lot with his arms folded and his eyes pointed in the direction of the Paulsen home, Luke replied, “They’ll come. Marty will, at least.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because he was too scared to do anything else.”

  Shaking his head, Red asked, “What did you tell that boy?”

  “To pay what he owes.”

  “I thought we were just going to give them two some grief for shooting their mouths off all the time.”

  “We were,” Luke said.

  “So what happened?”

  “Things got . . . out of hand.”

  “They sure did,” Red chuckled. “Why did you tell Marty you were gonna kill him?”

  “I didn’t! Why did you bust Joseph’s nose?”

  Shifting his focus back to his whittling, Red said, “It’s like you said. Things got out of hand.”

  Luke looked over to his friend. “Why did you do that to Joseph?”

  “He’s always gotten under my skin. He thinks he’s so tough . . . I guess I showed him he’s not the big man he thought he was. What about you?”

  “What about me? I barely even touched Marty.”

  “But you put more of a fright into him than I did with Joe,” Red told him. “And I could tell you liked doin’ it.”

  “Yeah? Well, Marty flaps his gums plenty as well. Guess it was good to take both of them down a notch or two.”

  “Did you have to threaten to kill him, though?”

  Luke sighed. “He came to that conclusion all on his own and I got no idea how he got there.”

  “All he had to do was look at you,” Red said as he sharpened the stick in his hand to an even finer point. “I even thought you were gonna send that little weasel to meet his maker.”

  “You know I could never do something like that.”

  “Sure. I know that. If I hadn’t known you since we were in short pants, though, I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  Luke turned his back to his friend so he could watch for approaching visitors. That way, Red couldn’t see the little smirk on his face when he said, “Let him think what he wants. Just as long as he follows through.”

  “And what if he don’t?” Red asked.

  “Looks like we won’t have to worry about that. Have a look for yourself.” Luke pointed west of the Paulsen home. Maconville was a tame little place under most circumstances, and any movement had a tendency to stick out. The pair of figures Luke had spotted walked directly toward the empty lot. One of them was shorter than the other, and judging by how they carried themselves, if they’d had tails, they would be tucked between their legs.

  “Guess I’d better put these away,” Red said as he stood up from his grimy seat with the stick and knife in his hands. “There’s no telling what they think I’ll do with ’em.”

  Red stuck the stick into the ground and was folding his knife when Joseph and Marty Paulsen entered the lot. Joseph did his best to keep his chin up, but his younger brother was rattled all the way down to his core, which made it difficult for him to pretend otherwise.

  “You got our money?” Luke asked in a voice that was steady, if not altogether forceful.

  Marty’s eyes flicked over to his brother, and his lips clenched tightly together.

  “No,” Joseph said. “We don’t have any money lying about. If you wanna wait until we get paid from Deke Harrold, we’ll be able to take care of it then.”

  “You working at the mill?” Red asked.

  When Joseph looked over to him, there wasn’t an ounce of malice in his eyes. On the contrary, he seemed downright respectful when he replied, “Yeah, for a few weeks now. He’s hiring on a few more hands if you need some work.”

  “I’ll think it over.”

  “You already wanted to cheat us once,” Luke pointed out. “That means we’re not likely to let you do it again. Let’s just settle this matter right here and now.”

  There was a silence between all four boys, which ended with a quick jab from Joseph’s elbow into Marty’s ribs. Startled into speaking, the younger Paulsen said, “Sorry about what I said before. I shouldn’t have called you them names.”

  Throughout his life, the only other boy to apologize to him was Red Connover. Other than that, he’d either been ignored or shoved aside by everyone else. Hearing those words come from Marty and seeing the sincerity in his eyes truly struck a chord within Luke. Since he didn’t know what else to say, Luke nodded and replied, “All right.”

  “If you still want us to settle up,” Joseph continued, “that’s what we’ll do. We shouldn’t have promised to pay you anything that we couldn’t deliver, and our pa always taught us to stand up and answer for our own mistakes. So here,” he said while pulling up the tail of his shirt to reveal the belt around his waist.

  When Luke saw the pistol tucked there, he froze in his tracks. Red had a much different reaction and immediately dropped down to pluck the sharpened stick from the ground with one hand while digging into his pocket for the knife with the other.

  Squinting his eyes and tensing his muscles to try to hold back the shakes that he felt creeping through his body, Luke snapped, “What are you doing with that?”

  Oddly enough, the two brothers seemed even more nervous than Red or Luke. Marty held out both hands in a placating gesture as he said, “That’s what we brought to trade! Honest.”

  Joseph nodded. “He’s right. It used to belong to my uncle.”

  “Is it loaded?” Red asked.

  “Yes.” Keeping his hand an inch or two above the pistol’s grip, Joseph asked, “You want to take a look for yourself?”

  “Yeah,” Luke said quickly. “Hand it over.”

  “Maybe you should take it from him,” Red warned.

  Before Luke could take that precaution, Joseph had already drawn the pistol from where it had been tucked beneath his belt. The pistol’s barrel was at least twice as long as Luke had been expecting. The lines were smooth and the grip looked as if it had been through six different kinds of hell.

  “What a piece of junk!” Red said.

  “What are you talking about?” Joseph snapped. “My uncle was in the army. He carried this gun against a band of Apaches in the Dakota Territories!”

  “Looks like he dropped it into a river about that long ago too. Did you just fish it out yesterday?”

  Luke reached out and took the pistol from Joseph. “How can I tell if it’s loaded?”

  “That right there,” Joseph said as he showed him how to open the cylinder.

  It wasn’t easy, but Luke rolled the cylinder all the way around. He then closed it up and got the weapon situated within his grasp. A smirk snuck onto his face, which he wouldn’t have been able to hold back if he’d tried.

  “Unless you’ve got another couple of those things stashed somewhere, I’d say you still owe us,” Red told him.

  “That’s a good gun,” Marty said. “I fired it myself.”

  Red laughed loudly. “I know that’s a damn lie. If you fired more than two rounds from that thing, you’d be missing a piece of your hand.”

  The iron was partly rusted, but its weight felt good in Luke’s hand. He hefted it and nodded in satisfaction as he rested his thumb against the hammer. After taking a breath, he pulled it back to hear the invigorating clack of the firing mechanism. “What kind of gun is it?”

  “It’s a genuine Colt,” Joseph told him.

  “There’s two shots in the
cylinder ready to go.” Eyeing the other boy suspiciously, Red asked, “You won’t shoot us, will you?”

  Glaring at Marty, Luke said, “I never said I was gonna kill anyone. I just want to see if this thing really works or not.”

  “Don’t do it,” Red warned. “I’ve heard of men getting their whole hand blown off when a pistol misfires.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “Don’t matter how careful you are! Something goes wrong and that gun could blow up in your face.”

  Luke’s eyes were glassy and transfixed upon the weapon in his hand. “Just get me something to shoot at.”

  “Are you gonna take that gun as a trade or not?” Marty asked. “We wanna be done with this.”

  Luke glanced over at him and was about to fiercely tell the boy to mind his manners when he realized Marty was already stricken mute. Without meaning to, Luke had pointed the Colt at the boy. Reluctantly he lowered the pistol and forced himself to sound innocent when he said, “I never shot a gun before. That’s all I’m after.” Luke wasn’t much of an actor, but he was convincing enough to get the Paulsen boys to relax a bit.

  “There’s some bottles over there,” Joseph said. “Marty, go set them up on that fence.”

  As Marty hurried away to complete the task he’d been given, Red walked over to Luke and whispered, “Just take the gun and be done with it. We can probably sell it to get the money we were after.”

  “Don’t you want to try to shoot it?” Luke asked.

  “I shot a gun before. My pa has one. Hasn’t yours ever taken you hunting?”

  “I’ve been hunting, but this isn’t like any hunting rifle. This has been through Indian wars,” Luke said as he turned the Colt over to see how the light reflected off its rusted surface from different angles. “This is like a pistol carried by gunfighters.”

  “It’s one carried by a soldier,” Red reminded him.

  “Plenty of gunfighters used to be soldiers.” Looking up to find a trio of bottles lined up on the fence separating the lot from the strip of land behind the neighboring store, Luke grinned and opened the Colt’s cylinder.